


Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying

by gloriousdae



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, I didn't mean to do it, Thomas is a dick, but I made Peter an abusive cock, but he will never be allowed to be happy, but maybe he has reason?, james is just james, theres child abuse, thomas actually has a soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9494984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriousdae/pseuds/gloriousdae
Summary: So it's set when Thomas Jefferson is in seventh grade. It's elaborating on something mentioned in the prologue of my Jeffmads story, which I've said before, the title is in french and I've forgotten it, but it means Starlight. But anyway. You don't have to read the Jeffmads story but it'd be appreciated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Before you go judging the school, it's based off the one I went to, since that's all I know.

Thomas, or Tommy as his annoying classmates loved to call him, was recently given a new nickname, Scrooge, which was fine with him. Thomas didn't like Christmas, didn't celebrate it, and just didn't care for it in general. He also didn't care for Hanukkah, but he had a respect for it. That was today's issue, Thomas didn't celebrate Hanukkah even though he was Jewish.  
"Well? Why don't you?" One of his classmates asked him, he shared a first name with Thomas, he was the one who decided to call him Tommy, when in his head, Thomas called him Tommy.  
"I don't celebrate Hanukkah for many reasons. It's not like it's mandatory or anything, so there's one. And another reason, I think all holidays are stupid, that they're just scams to get money. I've said this all before last year." Thomas says with his arms crossed, he was sitting on one of the swings of their K-8 school playground. Another thing Thomas thought was stupid, they still had recess in seventh grade, like that was necessary.  
"Your opinions stupid and wrong." A girl told him about ten minutes, her name was either Susan or Sophie, he didn't know, her and her sister were identical and he didn't care to tell them apart.  
"Actually, uh, that's why they're opinions, Sophie, they can't be wrong, you can choose not to agree with them, but they can't be right or wrong, that's what facts are for." A short boy said, coming up behind the girl, he looked between Thomas and Sophie, and then ahead of him. Thomas knew his name, most people called him-  
"Jimmy, did I ask for your input?" Sophie asks in a tone that Thomas could only describe as bitchy,  
Anyway, most people called him by his nickname, Jimmy, but he had said multiple times he disliked it, so Thomas called him James, although the respect wasn't mutual, James called him Tommy just like everyone else did.  
"I just wanted to let you know, Tommy was going to be sure to argue with what you said anyway. Am I right?" James asks looking at Thomas with the slightest bit of hopefulness in his eyes, Thomas ignored it, pushed up his glasses, and continued walking, ignoring his classmates comments and questions. It was the same thing everyday, just a different date written on the classroom chalk board.

Soon it was the end of the day. "Now, tomorrow we're drawing names for secret Santa. Everyone has to participate this year." The teacher says, his eyes lingering on Thomas for a moment too long. Thomas raised his hand immediately. "Yes, Mr. Jefferson?"  
"I think it is unfair you make everyone participate. Not everyone celebrates holidays revolving around a fictional man who breaks into your hou-"  
"I talked to your father on the phone about it actually. It it completely fair that you participate." The teacher says, cutting him off,  
"Fine." Thomas grumbles, the rest, or majority of the class, snickering or giggling. They had all grown used to this interaction, Thomas a completely logical argument and the teacher shoots it down like it was nothing but him asking what color the sky was.  
Fifteen minutes later, they were leaving the classroom, Thomas quickly making his way to walk home.  
"Tommy! Wait up!" James called, Thomas halted, but only for a second, then began walking again, the shorter boy caught up though. "Have you ever noticed you live right down the street from me? Like, two houses?"  
"I have noticed it. And have ignored the fact. It's useless knowledge." Thomas says,  
"Well... it sort of is. But, anyway, would you mind if I walk with you? Since I'm not getting picked up today." James says,  
"Yes, I would mind. But I can't stop you. So it's whatever." Thomas says shrugging,  
"Why're you so rude? To like, everyone?" James asks,  
"I don't like people, and if you're nice, people stick around, if you're rude, they go away." Thomas explains,  
"Well, what'd you do if you're rude and they don't go away?" James asks,  
"I ignore them."  
And that's what he did. Thomas ignored the short boy the whole walk, and sighed in relief when the boy got to his house and left him in silence for the last minute of the walk.  
But silence didn't greet him when he got inside.  
"Thomas! You're late!" His oldest sister, Jane called to him running down the stairs to greet,  
"I tried to shake off this annoying kid, it didn't work." Thomas explains, hugging her back and then pulling away,  
"Mom's not too happy, you were supposed to help me with Anna and Randolph." Jane says,  
"Yeah, I know, I also don't care, I have homework to do." Thomas says, going upstairs to his room that he shared with his sister Elizabeth, she was a year younger than him.  
"How much homework can you have?" Jane asks sitting on his bed,  
"Enough to keep me from helping mom." Thomas says with a shrug, throwing his bag by his bed,  
"Where's Elizabeth and Martha?" Jane asks,  
"Dad said to hurry home. She can handle them." Thomas says,  
"I'm getting tired of your attitude. You better go and make sure they get home safe." Jane says with her arms crossed,  
"They're fine." Thomas says sitting at his desk and taking a note book out,  
"How do you know? They could get hurt! They could forget their way home!" Jane says,  
"And they won't. They'll get home perfectly- oh listen. That's them. Now stop parenting me." Thomas says, turning away from Jane and beginning to write, not in English, no he was writing in French.  
"I'm going to tell mom about the way you're speaking to me." Jane says,  
"Fine with me." Thomas says with a shrug,  
"Or maybe, I'll just wait until father gets home." Jane says, Thomas could hear the smirk in her voice even though he didn't turn to her, it was a threat, and not empty.  
"I'm sorry. Okay? I'll try to work on my tone." Thomas says quickly,  
"Thank you. And I will tell mom you have a project so you can't help with the twins." Jane says standing up and leaving the room.  
The Jefferson kids had good reason to dislike their father behind his back, and love him when he was around. The man was mean. His bark and bite equally as harmful. Although Thomas found himself pushing his limits more often than his siblings, getting the most hits in the end, back talking, arguing. It never ended well but he never stopped. Now there were times when Peter threatened to hurt his other children for Thomas' behavior, and only then did Thomas stop his debating.

"I got a call from your teacher, Tom." Peter says to his oldest son,  
"What'd you have to say?" Thomas asks looking up from his dinner,  
"You were arguing with him again. I don't want to continue getting these calls." Peter says with a frown,  
Thomas nods, "I understand. I'll stop." He says,  
"You said that last week." Peter says with a frown,  
"I know." Thomas says simply, returning to his food.  
"And you didn't listen." Peter says, a hint of anger to his tone,  
"That is correct." Thomas says,  
"Why?"  
"What he said was unreasonable." As soon as the words left Thomas' mouth he regretted them, he regretted even thinking them.  
"I don't want to hear you talk back to me." Peter scolds angrily, Thomas already knew he was in for it,  
"That's how a conversation is held, father, you talk, I talk back." Thomas responds, he knew he was in trouble, what difference was it if he got in a few more words?

Ten minutes later Thomas was sitting on the ground in his room against his bed, his arms over his head, tears in his eyes but not daring to fall, not until he was positive his father was gone. He was taking deep shaky breaths, relaxing his arms finally. His top lip was bleeding, getting into his mouth slightly. He heard the front door slam, heard the car turn on and pull away, he was safe. Until he came home. Then he was sobbing on the ground, hiding his face in his hands.  
"You brought it on yourself." Elizabeth says with a click of her tongue, she was what you'd call a Daddy's girl, Thomas hated it.  
"Leave him alone, Buffy." He heard Mary say,  
"Well he did!" The younger girl whines,  
"I don't care, leave him alone." Mary says, then crouched in front of her brother, "come on, Tommy, let's get you cleaned up, he won't be gone too long and he won't like seeing you a mess." She cooed, helping her brother up and leading him to the bathroom.  
"God why do I do that?" Thomas mumbles a few minutes later when he had calmed down a bit, he was still crying, but settled. He was sitting on the bathroom counter holding an ice pack to his left eye.  
"I've been trying to figure you out since I was two, I still don't know." Mary says shaking her head,  
"Thanks..." Thomas mumbles,  
"Of course, just try to hold your tongue, please? I hate it when he does that, but rea-"  
"I know, I deserved it, I was rude." Thomas cuts her off,  
"No, god no, just, really try to not give in, it's what he wants, and you hate giving him what he wants." She says, taking the ice pack and shifting it before giving it back.  
"You know what I hate?" Thomas asks with the smallest smirk,  
"Everything, but what in particular?" Mary asks with a smile,  
"How well you know me." Thomas says shaking his head,  
"Oh shut up, you love having me around." Mary says with a giggle,  
"Yeah, you're right. And the only reason you're right is-"  
"Because I know you so well. That's what happens when someone has known you since you were five hours old. The only person that has known you longer is mom." Mary says,  
"And she barley knows anything." Thomas says shaking his head,  
"Hey! Not everyone can be a super genius like you." Mary says,  
"As if, I just know how to read, unlike you." Thomas says teasingly,  
"I'm the one in ninth grade, you're the baby seventh grader." Mary says, matching his tone,  
"Oh don't remind me!" Thomas says, hopping off the counter, "do I have the story for you." He says, throwing the towel that wrapped the ice pack in the hamper, opening the plastic bag and emptying the cold water and ice cubes into the sink, and then throwing the bag in the trash.  
"True or false?" Mary asks,  
"Amazingly, it's true." Thomas says,  
"Well this does sound like a good story." Mary says, leading the way out of the bathroom and to her room, she shared a room with Jane, but they had a big walk in closest, and that's where Mary spent most of her time, Thomas too. They sat down on the floor, Thomas closing the door once Mary had the light on. "Okay, spill."  
"So you know that kid who lives like right there?" Thomas asks, pointing towards on of the walls to indicate where "there" was, Mary nods, "so usually he has someone drive him home because apparently he gets sick easily and he can't walk twenty minutes home without dying. But, today, for some dumb reason, he was walking home, so he followed me, and I went way out of the way, didn't get home till almost four!" He exaggerated slightly, he got home at 3:40, but Mary didn't know, she was home until 4:30, anyway, she was giggling by the way he was talking, "and he wouldn't shut up, and I mean, I know I talk a lot, but this kid went on and on about just whatever popped into his head, and it was real boring shit too..." and Thomas then went on to talk for half an hour, Mary timed it, she laughed, giggled, she was a great audience, Thomas' preferred audience.  
"He sounds interesting." She says when he finished,  
"He's... he's something. He's smart, but god, he's so annoying." Thomas says,  
"What was his name?" Mary asks,  
"James." He answered simply,  
"Ohhh, it's that boy." Mary says with a nod, "the one that likes to interrupt you."  
"Yes! That annoying thing." Thomas says shaking his head,  
The two were talking till ten, then they heard the car arrive back home and Thomas ran to his room to bed, pretending to sleep when his father went to check on him.

At lunch recess James was trying to talk to Thomas again.  
"Hey, so I see you like to read, what're your favorite books?" James asks sitting beside Thomas on a log,  
"Anything that's about somewhere that's not here." Thomas says, at morning recess he had given in, started responding to James, it wasn't usual for him to give in, he rarely ever gave in to Mary even.  
"Where's your favorite place?" James asks,  
"France."  
"Why?"  
"I don't know."  
The conversation went like that, James asking questions, Thomas giving the shorts answer he could manage.

A week passed, it was the Friday before Christmas break. Now, Thomas hated school, but he hated being stuck at home for two weeks even more. But that morning was the day everyone gave their secret Santa gifts. He put a small bag of nail polishes on Susan's desk and then went to his own. Sitting on it was a book on France. He had the tiniest smile as he picked it up and flipped through it; then began reading it. He didn't car to check who got it for him. Everyone knew he liked France, everyone knew he liked books.

It was only Sunday. Break had barley started, and Thomas was marching down the street with his school bag.  
"Where are you going, Tommy?" Jane calls, anger still in her tone, the two had been yelling at each other in the front yard.  
"The library! I'll be back before dinner!" Thomas called back, quickening his pace as he went. Angry tears in his eyes as he went.  
"You're rather loud." James says, he had come outside when he heard Thomas shouting.  
"Do you think I give a fuck?" Thomas snaps,  
"No, I don't. But it's just an observation." James says, he was soon walking by Thomas,  
"What'd you want?" Thomas asks,  
"What were you and your sister arguing about?" James asks,  
"Nothing that matters to you." Thomas says,  
James tried, really did, to get passed what walls Thomas had up, he spent every day of break trying, but he failed every time, but got closer.

It wasn't till six months later, the first week of summer vacation, did James finally get the walls down. The two had become friends of sorts, Thomas hung out at James' house, but the shorter boy was never allowed over at Thomas' house.  
"So, Thomas, I have a question." James says, Thomas was sitting on the floor in front of James' bed with his nose in a book until he heard his name, them looked up at James.  
"I might have an answer. And even if I do, I might give it to you." Thomas says, moving to sit on his knees so he could see James.  
"I expect nothing more." James says, then continued on, "what's with your obsession with somewhere else? Anywhere else?" He asks, he'd asked before, every two weeks or so like clockwork he asked.  
Thomas took a breath, held it for a second, then let it out. "I don't like it here." He says simply,  
"But why?"  
"Here I get... there's a lot of reasons why, you don't want to know them." Thomas says,  
"Nonsense, I'm listening. I've got all summer." James says,  
Thomas nods, and thought for about thirty seconds, then nods again. "Here I get hurt. Here I have my siblings. Here I have everything. But anywhere else? There's so much more to learn. Anywhere else it's safe. Here it's... I don't even know how to say it." He says shaking his head now,  
"What do you mean? Here you get hurt? But you're safe everywhere else?" James asks in a tone of confusion and worry,  
"Here is where my father is. He's here. Not anywhere else." Thomas says quietly,  
"Is that where you get all your bruises? Not your sisters?" James asks,  
"Yeah... Mary would never lay a hand on me unless it's to help fix what he's done." Thomas explains, almost casually.  
"Why do you lie about it?" James asks, his tone now completely worried.  
"Because if I tell the truth... well the problem is I don't know what'll happen. If I'm believed. He hits all of us, we all have an agreement, not to tell anyone. So pretend I never told you." Thomas says quickly,  
"Yeah, of course." James says with a nod, then both boys returned to their books, Thomas moving to sit on the ground again, James leaning back on his bed.


End file.
